


Shadow

by narsus



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-27
Updated: 2011-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narsus/pseuds/narsus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is, of course, a world of difference between Mycroft and Gregory.  Not necessarily in the ways that seem obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss & Steven Moffat, and obviously in the genesis of it all, to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Gregory has never been all that fond of show tunes, but he does, in private at least, admit a certain fondness for plenty of the songs from Chess. Everybody’s heard “I know him so well”, seen the video featuring Barbara Dickson and Elaine Paige, and probably attempted to sing along at one point in their lives. He’s no different, though admittedly, his singing voice isn’t exactly much to write home about, and he’s much more inclined to make an attempt while drunk. There’s just something about this particular song that always makes him want to sing along, when it comes to lines like:

“No one in your life is with you constantly  
No one is completely on your side  
And though I move my world to be with him  
Still the gap between us is too wide.”

They’re the sort of lyrics that he always feels ought to apply to someone like Mycroft. He ought to be sitting alone, at home, listening to the ticking of the clock and wishing for better days. It would be the perfect, modern, sort of tragedy: He, the average man, desperately longing for a high-flying, glamorous, lover. If anybody were to write the story he’d find it completely believable. Mycroft _is_ dashing, dangerous and, understandably, rather good at chess. He comes from a good family, is well-connected and takes the sort of calculated risks that leave all his rivals in the dust. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s charming, funny, handsome and really rather stylish. His smile is blinding, his humour suitably sophisticated and dry, and his kindness knows no bounds. Mycroft is, in all aspects, the very picture of noblesse oblige. The sort of man who should be entirely out of Gregory’s league.

The surface impressions, of course, lend every credence to the idea that Gregory has attempted to reach so far above his station as to offend the natural order of things. The surface impressions are, of course, only ever veneers. Mycroft, for instance, has risen surprisingly far for someone who isn’t even an Entered Apprentice, let alone a Master Mason. In fact, it’s certainly unheard of for anyone to have risen so far, so fast, and still remain there while still eschewing the expected fraternity. Of course he has Gregory to thank for that. Gregory who has pledged the usual allegiances and met the expected requirements to ease his own advancement, and who, by association has done his small part to secure Mycroft’s vaunted position. There is, granted, most likely a certain amount of leeway due to Mycroft’s mother and her own discreet associations, though Gregory still isn’t sure that he believes the allegation of her Magus’ rank.

The upper echelons of any organisation are always rife with secret societies, even if they don’t term themselves as such. Even if all the membership requires is that participants play golf. Gregory doesn’t play golf though he has tried it from time to time. Instead he goes to the opera, attends various fraternal dinners, charity events and exhibitions. It’s to the occasional private art gallery showing that he takes Mycroft most often. Not because Mycroft necessarily enjoys art more than any other pastime but because those events are the ones at which Mycroft will be noticed as his companion, and association is all it takes to clear the way. He would take Mycroft to one or two of the gala dinners if he thought that Mycroft could behave himself for long enough, but that isn’t likely. Mycroft despises the very idea of this sort of artificial nepotism and wouldn’t hold back from voicing his opinion. Even now, he barely refrains from casting aspersions on the entire rigmarole on the few occasions that he does attend.

Strangely, Sherlock seems to turn up at various events with an alarming frequency. Usually, on the arm of some well-connected city boy, and once, much to Gregory’s surprise, in the company of a disreputable old pilot, whose huge philanthropic contributions seem to be the only reason that he’s still permitted membership to their fraternity at all. Sherlock, at least, has been shockingly diplomatic on such occasions, playing the role of the charming companion with aplomb. Not that Gregory has any intention of switching sides any time soon. Sherlock can be charming as a vehicle for achieving his own ends. Mycroft, on the other hand, is utterly endearing anyway. Besides, Sherlock’s career hardly needs the sort of help that Gregory can provide. Mycroft may distain the sort of assistance that is on offer but most of it isn’t direct anyway. Gregory does nothing that Mycroft could pinpoint and turn aside, which is for the best really. He’d object to all of it on principle, in the strangely naive belief that hard graft, skill and integrity would win the day.

Integrity is all very well but Gregory has seen good men go down in flames because of their adherence to truth and principle. He’s even sent a couple of them down himself. Truth is subjective, principle can become the crippling determination to follow the letter of the law and not the spirit of it. Hard work can go to waste if it isn’t recognised. Even skill can be dismissed easily enough. To rise, in any profession, what’s needed is determination, skill, hard work and, most importantly, opportunity. Opportunity is the sticking point. Opportunity can be created but only through all the subtle means that Mycroft despises. Gregory networks, is deliberately gregarious, forgiving and attentive. He asks for help when he doesn’t need it, as a vehicle to build bridges, deferring his judgement to someone who will be flattered to be deferred to. He also speaks kindly about those who cross him and watches as they measure out enough rope to hang themselves with. He never steps in to give any of them the final push, of course, but he does watch them jump with relish.

Mycroft abhors all of that. He believes in truth above all else. Their methods run so contrary that Gregory sometimes wonders quite why they can make, whatever it is that’s actually between them, work. If Mycroft favours truth, integrity and dedication, Gregory will always prefer lies, manipulation and outright cheating. Yet somehow, strangely, against all odds, it actually seems to work. Mycroft is not fond of lying and prefers not to, to the point of exposing himself to harm rather than dissemble. It’s a trait that could easily get him killed in a whole variety of circumstances. It’s also a trait that Gregory finds endearing. Mycroft _is_ younger after all. He is brilliant and beautiful and hopelessly naive. In contrast, Gregory is an old hand at the game. He revels in glorious schadenfreude as often as possible, undercuts his rivals and plans for his own steady gain through a myriad of traps and snares. He is the positive antithesis to everything Mycroft stands for. The Jungian shadow that mirrors the light. Which is then, perhaps, why they are drawn to each other.

If Gregory is the shadow then the notion also explains why he has no similar fascination with Sherlock. They are shadows passing each other. Two dark mirrors of the human soul, similar enough to enable them to work together, but not nearly different enough to find the other an endless source of fascination. Sherlock would no more find Gregory a puzzle than Gregory would Sherlock. They are both well acquainted with the darker side of the human soul, and, unlike Mycroft, neither of them can find it in themselves to believe that humanity is capable of any better.

**Author's Note:**

> Quite possibly the older gentleman Sherlock is seen with may be a certain First Officer from a private charter airline.


End file.
